


the hanged man & the hierophant

by shouldbeworking



Category: Persona 4, Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shouldbeworking/pseuds/shouldbeworking
Summary: Five years after the Phantom Thieves took the world by storm Nanako Dojima moves from the countryside of Inaba to Tokyo, the city where it all began, to attend Kosei High on a scholarship.During her year-long stay Nanako learns to navigate more than just the expected trials of a new city and high school—soon enough she finds herself dealing with a mysterious world known only as “the Haunt,” dreams of a strange long-nosed man... and two particularly troublesome social links.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Hanamura Yosuke/Narukami Yu
Comments: 45
Kudos: 262





	1. Prologue

**_Five years ago_**

  
Ren can’t sleep.

Ren is great at sleeping. A natural. His head hits the pillow, desk, vibrating-metal-side-of-the-train, and out he goes. He once fell asleep _in Mementos_ —propped up against a wall while his teammates talked in dull, quiet tones about their homework. It was warm, and it was comfortable, and when he woke Goro Akechi was the first thing he saw: eyes narrowed, bright red beak tilted to the left, giving him the strangest look…

A strange look back then. Commonplace now.

Or could that be his own wishful thinking? A dangerous thing, these days.

Ren turns on his side. Closes his eyes. Tries to let the darkness embrace him like it used to. He shouldn’t dwell on it, can’t dwell on it, not now. Not when they have bigger problems to deal with. Not when…

1:11 AM.

His phone drops out of his hand onto his mattress for the millionth time, he heaves out an exhausted sigh for the millionth time. No, not exhausted—he’s not _tired_. He’s just…

He wants to know what that look means. He has all the boldness in the world to ask but none of the timing. Of course the time wasn’t right when Akechi gently shook his shoulder to wake him, not with a betrayal scheduled for three days later. Then a heist, a death—senseless, stupid, and Ren couldn’t even think, couldn’t let himself stop and think for a moment before—a miraculous return. Too miraculous. And now time is almost up. Ren’s curiosity, insatiable as always, is… well, it’s killing him.

Maybe he’ll never know what goes on behind Akechi’s eyes. Maybe he’s only imagining it. Maybe Akechi doesn’t want him to know. Akechi definitely doesn’t want him to know. Is it okay that he could never know?

_Stop thinking about it. Go to sleep._

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes again.

Morgana twitches.

Ren moves his leg.

Moves his other leg.

Shifts his blanket.

Turns on his back.

On his side.

Checks the time.

1:12 AM… ah, hell.

“ _Hey,_ ” he types and sends before his brains catches up to his fingers. Forced to follow through, he adds: “ _Are you still up?_ ” And for some reason he sends that too—just about the most clichéd text a person could ever send, what the _hell_ is he thinking?

Ren smothers the bright, accusatory phone screen under his pillow, covers his eyes in embarrassment, grits his teeth and groans soundlessly in the darkness. It would be great if he could just go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to come no matter what. There’s nothing more he can do right now. There’s absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t be able to just _sleep_.

_Read, 1:12 AM._

Akechi doesn’t respond.

That’s not entirely accurate though: he responds by not responding. Ren suspects Akechi doesn’t text a lot of people—for more reasons than just this—but _Detective Prince Goro Akechi_ apparently does not realize his phone is set to show read receipts. Read receipts and, more importantly, in-progress typing.

Three dots appear.

Disappear.

Appear again.

Disappear again.

Appear for a while, for a long time, long enough that Ren thinks he might get a message out of this one.

Then disappear.

Appear.

_And you called_ me _a coward._

Ren turns to his other side, watches that little bubble with its little dots fade in and out, and wonders what a person does on their last night alive ( _maybe_ ). Wonders what Akechi has been doing since he left Leblanc in a huff, when tomorrow he might disappear forever ( _might_ ).

Ren’s chest constricts again. _Maybe, might, maybe, might._

This isn’t the first time he’s gone down this road. Endless circles, remembering, wishing, wondering, hoping, curious, curious, curious. It’s why he can’t sleep tonight of all nights, probably. Definitely. It’s maddening. And if it’s like this for him, then…

1:26 AM.

The dots appear again.

“ _Hey_ ,” Ren whispers. He carefully scoops his fluffy, snoring, surprisingly heavy not-cat friend off his leg and onto the empty space he’s leaving behind. “I’ll be right back. Keep sleeping.”

“ _Mmnragh_ ,” Morgana responds, taking to the new spot immediately. _Touryou_ : a successful escape.

So. Here’s the question. What would Goro Akechi want from his last night on earth?

Impossible to answer.

_Obviously_ , the Akechi living in his brain sneers at him. _What the hell are you doing?_

Ren paces back and forth down the dim café, shoes half-on, coat slipped haphazardly over his shoulders. Playing the part of a reasonable person, someone with a brain and enough sleep to fuel it, someone who might not go through with this bad, stupid, poorly thought-out plan.

His last night… what would _Ren_ want from his last night? He wouldn’t want to be alone, that’s for sure. Ren ties his shoelaces, buttons his coat. He’d want some curry because Sojiro made an addict of him, and thankfully there’s some leftovers in the fridge. Maybe he could bring some ice cream too? The expensive kind that comes in the small containers. Coffee-flavored because that’s Goro I-don’t-like-sweets-and-I’m-a-dirty-rotten-liar Akechi’s dessert of choice at _Miel et Crêpes._ A thermos of actual coffee to match, because he’s not sleeping anyway.

(To be honest, he has no idea what he would want, what he’s doing. He’s trying not to think too much. He’s failing spectacularly.)

It’s 2:18 AM when Ren finally makes his way to Akechi’s apartment door. _Maybe_ Akechi’s apartment door… Ren has never actually been here before. He only knows this address thanks to the intel-gathering the Phantom Thieves did on Akechi back in November and now he’s having doubts about their thoroughness because the hallway he’s in is nondescript, the door is a regular door, the number has no special or fateful meaning. This apartment could belong to anyone. It’s 2:18 AM and Ren might be standing outside a stranger’s apartment with a bag full of curry and a bag full of ice cream and a thermos of coffee and—maybe this really was a bad idea, because the only way he can imagine this could possibly get any worse is if this _is_ in fact Goro Akechi’s apartment.

The ice cream is going to melt. 2:20 AM.

“ _So_ ,” Ren texts carefully with the hand not holding the thermos, “ _I’m outside your door if you’re still awake._ ”

_Read, 2:20 AM._

Silence.

Interesting: time has stopped.

He’s finally achieved his goal in the worst, most unbearable way. Dawn will never come and Ren is going to be stuck in this hallway forever with embarrassing late-night texts to his rival permanently etched into his phone. Awesome.

“ _I brought_ ,” Ren starts panic-typing and doesn’t finish—several successive _crash!_ ’s and _thump!_ ’s startle him out of it, coming from somewhere behind the door. Akechi’s door.

Is this better or worse than the silence?

His heart pounds.

More crashes. More thumps. More silence. And then suddenly, too suddenly, the door slams open and Ren finds himself face-to-face with his rival.

His… rival? Goro Akechi, Detective Prince, _psycho killer qu'est-ce que c'est—_ his hair is frizzy, sticking up everywhere, his chest is heaving, he looks manic but in a bad way, not ~~a sexy~~ his usual way. The carefully put-together and polished illusion Akechi left behind in Leblanc just a few hours ago is completely shattered now, shattered forever, replaced by a kid wearing a lopsided, oversized t-shirt with a nonsense corporate logo on the front, bright red boxers, red-rimmed eyes and… a… red nose to match.

Red.

So much red.

Oh, oh no.

What would Ren do if this was his last night on earth? He would cry, obviously. ( _Obviously_ , the Akechi in his head sneers again, but now that Akechi’s eyes are red too.) He would be terrified, he would be a mess, and he is so unbelievably _stupid._

“Have you lost your mind!?” Akechi hisses.

Yes. Ren blinks. “Hi.”

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ren says, holding up the bags as if they could help him explain. What the hell _is_ he doing here?

A small sniff, so small he could have imagined it. Ren stares, amazed and horrified in equal measure, and tries to memorize everything, everything about this. Akechi looks furious with himself, embarrassed, so small and so honest standing in this doorway. More naked now than Ren has ever seen him—and, _ha_ , Ren has seen him naked.

Oh, this really was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?

Akechi tries to put on a scowl. He fails. “You haven’t taken Maruki’s deal, have you?”

_Why?_

_Does my being here make you… happy?_

“No,” Ren says softly. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

Akechi’s unconvincing frown deepens, just the littlest bit. Silence stretches in the small space between them, echoing down the nondescript hallway in this nondescript complex. Red, red, red-rimmed eyes flicker from Ren’s face to his coat, his shoes, his bags, and back.

And maybe Akechi really is lonely. Maybe he likes Ren more than he lets on. Or maybe he’s just as susceptible as Ren to bad, stupid, poorly thought-out ideas in the late hours of the night. Whatever the reason, he turns away without a word and pads back into his apartment, leaving the door open behind him.

Ren’s heart jumps against his chest, _curious, curious, curious._ And he follows Akechi inside.


	2. Hierophant [Rank 1]

**_Present day_ **

“Welcome to the team, Oda-senpai,” Nanako says as warmly as she can. Some lingering shyness hunches her shoulders and speeds up her heart, but she fulfills her job as leader nonetheless. _Fake it till you make it_ —that’s how the saying goes, right?

“Team? _Tch_ ,” Oda scoffs.

And—yup, there it goes. Nanako’s smile slides right off her face. Rude.

Oda crosses his arms defensively and looks back and forth between Nanako and Mio. “Kinda small for a team if you ask me. And it’s not like your battle techniques were all that impressive either.”

Her jaw drops. Rude! And after everything they went through… first of all, figuring out the name of the old video game Oda was obsessing over in his Haunt-induced nostalgic-stupor was _super annoying._ Then navigating all over the place to find that stupid little game cartridge, and _then_ fighting Oda’s Shadow? All to get mouthed off at the second they return to reality? Nanako. Is. Exhausted.

And she would say all that herself, she really would, but Mio speaks up first. Just like she usually does, for better or worse. “We didn’t have to save you, you know.“ Mio places a defiant hand on her hip, flips around her knife and—oh, she might want to hide that away now that they’re out of the Haunt and back in the real world, people can _see_ them. “You should be groveling at Nanako’s feet, you ungrateful mother—“

“ _Mio Nishimura._ ”

Nanako suppresses a shiver as Ernest slithers out of her ponytail and perches on the crown of her head. “ _It is alright. I am sure Shinya Oda is weary from awakening to his Persona._ ”

Right. Reasonable enough to expect at least a little bit of lashing out. Nanako did, Mio did—Oda can have a pass for now, especially because he just looks so funny with his big wide eyes, gaping mouth, face white as a sheet.

“Uh,” he squeaks. “Dojima-chan…?”

“Yes?” Nanako asks innocently.

This is her favorite part.

“There’s. A snake. On your head. And it talked!?”

“His name is Ernest,” Mio scowls. “You already met.”

Oda blinks. Takes off his baseball cap. Puts a hand to his head, looks throughly dizzy. She can’t help but feel sympathy for the poor guy, even if he is a bit annoying. Both she and Mio had to go through this too and it sure wasn’t easy. It still isn’t easy, some days.

Mio can be the one to catch him if he faints, though.

“ _I take a smaller form in this world to better assist Nanako Dojima,_ ” Ernest explains for him.

Mio flips her knife around one last time then finally stores it back in her boot ( _thank goodness_ ). She’s looking at Oda is a wary eye—seems like she had the same thought as Nanako and wants both of her hands knife-free, just in case. “Chin up kid,” she says, even though Oda is a year older than the both of them _and_ is taking this much better than Mio had when she’d awakened to her own Persona. But Nanako is not about to poke that particular bear, thank you very much. Not when the bear has a short temper and a knife in her boot.

How does that work anyway? Wouldn’t walking around be uncomfortable?

“You’ll get used to it,” Mio says. “The world’s just a little more weird than you thought it was.”

“It’s not that,” their new teammate whines, head still in his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening again. Is it me?” He mumbles to himself, “am I the problem?”

Interesting. That’s a new one.

“ _The Magician Arcana may hold more secrets than you expect_ ,” Ernest slithers down to whisper in Nanako’s ear. And, okay, Ernest is helpful most of the time but Nanako’s pretty sure she could have figured that out on her own.

“What do you mean by ‘again,’ Oda-senpai?”

Oda’s eyes widen. “Uh! Nothing,” he says in a hurry and closes up immediately. Shoot. She’ll just have to get it out of him another time then. At least he no longer looks like he’s a second away from collapsing or hurling on the street. “You can call me Shinya, by the way. Feels right after you… you know… _savedmylifeandstuff,_ ” he mumbles quickly.

“Shinya!” Mio immediately yells, slaps him on the back. Shinya stumbles forward. “Happy to have ya, welcome to the team.”

“Hey, I already said that!”

Mio sticks her tongue out at her. Nanako is supposed to be the leader of this perfectly acceptably-sized team, and yet she gets no respect.

“So…” Shinya says, fixing his jet-black hair, fitting his cap back on his head. “What was all that back there, then? Personas, Shadows, the… hunt?”

“The Haunt,” Nanako corrects.

“Like, as in ghosts? It’s that big warehouse-looking place we were trapped in, right? Why’s it called that? And what’s with all the random stuff in there and the—“

“Um,” Nanako says.

“Oh boy,” Mio adds.

“ _Nanako Dojima. Perhaps it would be prudent to explain tomorrow after a rest?_ ”

“Yeah, what Ernest said,” Nanako nods. “It’s getting late and I still have a quiz I have to study for. Oda—um, I mean, Shinya—could you meet up with us tomorrow night at sunset? Right here outside the arcade should work, I think.”

Shinya agrees after a little convincing, their plan is set, and they disperse soon after that. Nanako makes her way back to her new home, hopping from train to train and only getting a little bit lost. Not bad for only living in the city for two months, if she doesn’t say so herself.

“ _It does not hurt that I am here to direct you,_ ” Ernest hisses, uncurling from around Nanako’s ponytail just to be a bummer.

“Shh,” she says, reaching blindly behind her head to poke him back into his hiding place. “I’m almost back.” She can’t imagine the fallout of her hosts finding out she keeps a snake in her hair, let alone discovering that he talks.

Okay… maybe she can imagine it. It’s a little funny. Her cousin would probably take it in a stride like he does everything, but _Yosuke_? Poor Yosuke might genuinely die of shock if faced with something so abnormal.

But… then they would tell her dad, and her dad would freak out and drag her home to Inaba, and she would lose her scholarship and the opportunity to learn from the reknowned pianists at Kosei, and then she would have to grow up to be a detective or something else equally mind-numbing and live a miserable life out in the country.

Nanako grimaces, steeling herself before opening the door to her home for the year. No, no, better to keep all of this a secret.

* * *

“Nanako! Hey, Nanako!!”

“Eh?” Nanako turns behind her, just in time to catch Oda—ah, no, Shinya, _Shinya_ , running down the path to their school. The nonsensical black “ _CASUL?_ ” hat from yesterday has been replaced with a bright yellow “ _GAMER MEME_ ” one. She wonders how many different weird baseball caps he owns and how he gets away with wearing them in his classes. It doesn’t seem very fair. “Good morning, Shinya,” Nanako greets him politely.

“Glad I—caught you,” Shinya gasps. Nanako thinks briefly about slowing down her pace for him, but decides Shinya should learn to keep up. “I was thinking—last night—about, you know. All the stuff.”

Ah, he at least has more discretion than Mio. That’s a point to Shinya. “Yes?”

“I want to be useful!” Shinya exclaims, his brow furrowed in determination. “I know I only just started, but as the only guy on the team, I—”

Ugh. Point deducted from Shinya. “What does that matter?”

“ _I too am a male,_ ” Ernest adds.

“Oh. Uh, r-right,” Shinya stutters. “My bad.”

He keeps pace with her as they walk but that’s about it—his eyes are glazed over, lost in somewhere on the horizon. Nanako wonders if she could steer him into a pole.

“ _Speak your mind, Shinya Oda._ ”

Shinya startles out of his daze, glances nervously at Ernest. “He’s… kinda formal for a tiny snake dude.”

Nanako shrugs. “It’s just how he is. He’s polite.”

Judging by Shinya’s queasy look, either running so much so early in the morning has caught up to him or he isn’t a fan of snakes. Nanako guesses it’s the snake thing. “Sorry, I really did have something to tell you…” He fiddles with the strap of his backpack, looks unsure of himself. “See, there’s this old friend of mine… I don’t wanna say too much, but. You should meet him. I think he might be able to help with all,” Shinya waves his hands in the air, “ _this_.”

“Really? How?”

Shinya grimaces. He seems on the fence about his own suggestion. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Not helpful,” Nanako deadpans, giving him her best disappointed frown. She thinks she does a pretty good job—Yu would be proud.

“ _Being useful means providing information that could be of use, Shinya Oda,_ ” Ernest adds with a hiss.

Shinya flinches away from him. “It’s not my secret and I’m no snitch! Here,” he reaches into his backpack, takes out a random crumpled piece of paper—something that looks like homework—and to Nanako’s horror he rips a corner of off it. “I’ll give you his info and you decide if you wanna talk to him or not, deal? Just mention my name if you do. He’ll help, I promise,” he finishes awkwardly, shoving his hastily written note at her before hurrying off to his separate building on the Kosei campus without so much as a wave goodbye.

Ernest slithers out of Nanako’s ponytail and down her arm, circling her wrist like a bracelet so he can get a better look at the note.

“ _Ren Amamiya, Café Kingsley,_ ” he recites to her. “ _It could be useful to investigate, at least. Shall we, after your daily obligations are complete?_ ”

“Let’s shall,” Nanako nods, and heads into her classroom.

* * *

Two months ago, Nanako Dojima moved from the countryside of Inaba to the city of Tokyo. She’d applied for a long-shot scholarship on the suggestion of her piano teacher and, amazingly, gotten it. Which was scary in its own way. Nanako played for herself, for her dad, and for the faded memory of her mother—she hadn’t thought of the piano as anything more than a hobby.

But now here she is, at _Kosei_ , the same school mentioned in art museums, dance movies, literature classes. She has expectations on her now, she left her dad all alone for this—at his insistence, sure, but… but he’s coming to visit soon and Nanako is half-expecting he’ll bring two months worth of laundry along with him.

Well, she wouldn’t be a Dojima if she didn’t worry.

And she wouldn’t be Nanako if she weren’t at least a little bit apprehensive about going into this dingy, back-alley café that Shinya pointed her too. The wood paneling is faded, the windows clean but scratched and slanted. A huge mess of potted plants surround the entryway, which would be cute if they didn’t look like they were all two sizes bigger than they should be.

She traveled all the way out to Kichijoji for _this?_ Is this a prank? Is she being hazed by her new teammate? Isn’t that supposed to go the other way around?

“Are you sure this is the place?” She whispers to Ernest.

“ _There is no other Café Kingsley_ ,” Ernest replies. “ _If Ren Amamiya exists, he is here._ ”

“Well, that’s not entirely true. This could be his day off,” Nanako mumbles. “Maybe we should come back another time…”

Excuses, excuses, she knows that. And she did come all the way here, after all.

“ _The decision is yours, but you have the required courage to face this challenge,”_ Ernest adds unhelpfully.

Courage. _Courage, Nanako._ How is a little café scary? She fights monsters now! Yeah, okay, she can do this. Just pretend the building is a monster.

No, don’t pretend the building is a monster. Those plants are seriously nothing to sneeze at.

Nanako takes one last deep breath and pushes the door open, squinting her eyes to acclimate to the dim lighting inside. And it’s… not so bad, really. There are a few patrons already inside, but plenty of seats open. It doesn’t seem very popular, which is just fine with Nanako. There’s only one employee too—a guy behind the bar that she could only describe as “normal-looking,” working on a crossword puzzle. For some reason she was imagining an angry mob of yakuza or alien plant-people or something equally terrifying waiting for her, but it’s just a normal little café. Maybe she watches too much television.

Is that barista Ren Amamiya, then? Oh, she really should have asked Shinya what he looks like.

”Welcome,” maybe-Ren-Amamiya greets her with a small, friendly smile. Or, it would be friendly, but something about it seems… off. Or maybe that’s her adrenaline and paranoia talking. “What can I get for you?”

“Um,” Nanako says, reluctantly shuffling her way to the bar. “Tea?”

“Sure, what type?”

“Uh, um,” she replies with eloquence while she scans the menu above the counter, having forgotten all types of tea. Ah, wait, there are colors! “Green?”

“Green tea, coming right up,” the barista repeats back pleasantly, as if she had ordered like a normal human. “You can take a seat anywhere while I get it ready.”

Nanako nods, turns away, then finally remembers her manners and turns back, saying in a rush, “thankyouverymuch!”

So embarrassing.

“ _You did not ask about Ren Amamiya.”_

“ _I know!_ ” She hisses back under her breath, claiming one of the more private booths in the back. The seat is kind of old and worn but it seems clean. “ _I’m working on it._ ”

“ _Do not forget to mention Shinya Oda—_ ”

“ _Sh!_ ” Nanako snaps. As annoying as Ernest can be sometimes, at least he listens to her. He curls back around the hair tie holding up her ponytail and doesn’t say another word. It’s not long before the barista stops by her table with a small mug of green tea in hand, and Nanako knows this is her moment: now or never.

“Here you are,” he says, and oh… was it his eyes that were throwing her off? They’re really intense up close—he seemed like an ordinary guy before but… “feel free to take your time with it. Today’s been slow,” he adds as Nanako has a small crisis over how long and thick his eyelashes are. It’s just not fair.

“T-thank you, it looks delicious.” _Deep breath._ “Um. Would you… would you happen to know someone named Ren Amamiya?”

“Hm,” the barista hums, nonchalantly putting his hands in his pockets. “That’s me.”

Nanako feels Ernest move a little and has to stop herself from smacking the back of her own head. She’s at least prepared for this part: “um, I’m sorry—I just moved to the city and I have this friend. Shinya Oda? He said you might be able to… help me out?”

Amamiya’s smile turns blinding. “Shinya! How is he?”

_He almost died in a secret world and also kind of tried to kill us but that wasn’t really him except it was but whatever it’s all fine now._ “He’s doing well,” Nanako says, feeling a little less shaky. “He spoke highly of you.”

Amamiya scratches the back of his neck, the picture of humility. “Ah, he’s a great kid. If you’re friends with him you’re already doing something right.” He leans against the opposite booth, smiles that same strange smile: “he probably sent you my way because I went through something similar back in high school. Where are you from?”

“Inaba,” Nanako answers hesitantly, knowing all the connotations that come with that answer. _Scandal, murder… kidnapping._

“True countryside then,” Amamiya chuckles. “Well if you ever have any questions about city life I can try my best to answer them. I’ve lived here a few years now.”

“Thank you, Amamiya-san,” Nanako says gratefully, and wonders what other reason Shinya might have directed her here. “I’m Nanako Dojima, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Nanako Dojima,” Amamiya nods, then leaves her to enjoy her tea and triumph on her own. That wasn’t so bad… that wasn’t so bad! Her heart is still pounding but she feels a little more courageous than before. He was nice. Plus, this tea is really good.

“ _You have made a new bond_ ,” Ernest whispers in her ear. “ _How auspicious. It seems this detour was worth our time._ “

“Really?” Nanako murmurs back. She has a few already—the Fool, Strength, Chariot, Magician, and Sun, but finding and making a new one is always exciting. “What’s this one called?”

“ _Ren Amamiya, The Hierophant._ ”

* * *

Nanako isn’t able to stay at the café as long as she’d like—she has another obligation tonight, at a time that can’t be changed. She finishes her tea and gives Amamiya her friendliest wave on her way out, starting her trek from Kichijoji to Shibuya, already planning her next visit. The rest of the team is waiting outside the arcade when she and Ernest arrive, arguing about something or other, so she ushers them into the Haunt before the sun can set and their access is closed off for the day.

“Holy shit, Shinya!” Mio exclaims after they cross over. “What are those!?”

“Oh, these?” Shinya tries to play all coy about the fact that he’s wielding two _guns_. He spins them around his hands, snorting when Nanako and Mio flinch and duck away out of reflex. “They’re not real, scaredy-cats.” With that he spins in place and fires off a shot at the closest tower of clutter, knocking a small cup off the top with an accuracy that is _astonishing_. “Call me… The King.”

Never mind, he’s still lame. What kind of person gives themselves a nickname? “Absolutely not. And those are real here, so be careful!” Nanako does not want to explain a bullet wound to her teachers, her cousin, her cousin’s fiancé, her dad, _ugh_.

Poor Mio is uncharacteristically silent, absolutely distraught, staring down at the knives in her hands like they personally wronged her. “Why didn’t I… pick a gun…?”

“Because you would be a terrible shot, Mio Nishimura,” Ernest says, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks, Ernest.”

Shinya holsters his weapons, still looks put out from not getting his stupid made-up nickname. “So… this big dude is seriously the same thing as the snake that lives in your hair?” Shinya asks, staring incredulously up at Ernest’s “human” form.

“Yup.” Nanako swings her axe over her shoulder, saunters past him. “We can talk more but we should get moving. It’s a bad idea to stay in one place for too long in here.”

The team navigates their way through the Haunt: a mysterious plane of existence which can only be accessed during two times of the day—dawn and dusk. “These times are closely associated with memory and nostalgia,” Ernest explains while they venture deeper down the endless rows of junk. “And so the Haunt grows nearer as well.”

“I dunno, I guess,” Shinya says. “But it’s not like I was remembering being awesome at _Gun About_ while the sun was setting.”

Oh, there’s just so much to explain. This is definitely the last new teammate they’ll take on, Nanako can’t go through this a third time. She shakes her head. “It’s doesn’t have to be exactly like that. And you were more like a conduit anyway—the whole city was obsessed with old video games this last month because there’s always _something,_ and that something just happened to be what you had a really strong nostalgia for and so—”

“So yeah, I went a little wild with it,” Shinya grumbles. “Sorry. Again.”

“It’s cool,” Mio says, “your Shadow was pretty sick. Old-timey gunslinger, _pew pew_ ,” she mimes shooting Shinya with her finger guns.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Mio Nishimura was also a conduit,” Ernest pipes up.

“ _Ernest!_ ”

Shinya brightens at that, gets a little bounce in his step. “Ohhh, so—wait. Back in April, when people couldn’t stop talking about that lame old board game—that was you!?”

“ _Dungeons and Dragons_ isn’t just a board game, it’s a role-playing game, dipshit,” Mio snaps. “You’re a nerd, you should know that.”

“Not that kind of nerd! That’s like, the ultimate nerd.”

“Asshole!”

Nanako rolls her eyes and tries to tune them out. From the few encounters they’ve had so far today Shinya has definitely proven himself useful in battle but… at what cost?

“The Haunt has grown much louder with Shinya Oda and Mio Nishimura by our sides,” Ernest says, in sync with her thoughts.

“Yeah…” Nanako looks around, up and down the tall, precariously stacked towers of furniture, books, clothes, treasure, all of the _everything_ which make up the hallways of the Haunt. “I’m a little worried.”

Ernest stops, tilts his head. Even though he towers over everyone in both size and bulk his mannerisms are so reminiscent of the little snake that lives in her hair. “Why do you worry?” He asks in his innocent way.

She worries because she’s a Dojima. Because they’re in a world they know almost nothing about, and Mio and Shinya are arguing so loud that Nanako is certain they can be heard ten rows down. Because apparently she’s the only one who can navigate them through this otherworldly mess, thanks to an Incident that she thought was finally behind her.

And because she thinks they’ve spent a little too much time in this area…

_Clink, clink._

Oh no.

“Shut up,” Nanako hisses at her teammates. “ _Shut up!_ ”

“Whoa—”

“Nanako, what—”

“ _Be quiet!!_ ”

They stop in their tracks. Nanako listens again for the sound.

_Clink, clink._

“What was that,” Shinya whispers.

_That’s the Reaper_ , Nanako would say. _The Reaper, because we took too long and now we’re going to die and my dad is going to be so mad at me._ She would say that, but the Reaper is already here, has already caught up to them. How, how did it appear so quickly, so suddenly!? How could she have messed up so badly?

“ _Persona!_ ” Nanako shouts as she throws her mother’s wedding ring high into the air. Prudentia manifests in a flash and slams her enormous mirror on the ground with a heavy _thunk_ , facing forward like a shield, ready to block what attacks she can. “We can’t fight this thing, so get ready to run!”

The Reaper hovers menacingly, looming over them, and it doesn’t even bother attacking at first. It knows it has them cornered. It waits, biding its time and gathering its power as Nanako calls out orders to buff defense, buff evasion, shield, shield, run, run, _run!!_

But each time they try, their escape route is cut off from them. Their attacks are doing _nothing_. Mio’s spells glance off an invisible barrier, Shinya’s bullets strike true but have no effect, Ernest calls up Persona after Persona on Nanako’s command and finds no weaknesses…

And then their time is up.

The Reaper finally makes its move, chains clinking, long-barreled guns aimed high and Nanako screams at her team to brace themselves even though it’s hopeless, hopeless—

“ _Laevateinn!!_ ”

“ _Ah—!?_ ” Mio stumbles out of her guard, shrieks as a shadow flies over them, launching itself at the Reaper. Its attack lands with a deafening crash, the concussive force of it knocking all of Nanako’s team to the ground and staggering the Reaper back, putting a stop to the spell that surely would have killed them all.

It’s a Shadow—a Shadow fighting another Shadow, Nanako has never seen anything like it. The battle is _ferocious_. Claws, swords, bullets, magic, traded back and forth at speeds she would have thought impossible and then, before they can even think to finally make their escape, the battle is over.

The Reaper is dead. Vanished.

All that remains in its place is the dark figure that came to their rescue. And it’s just… standing there, breathing. Not targeting them, not yet at least, seemingly not hostile now that the Reaper is gone. The Shadow turns its head—its _beak_ —and glares directly at them, eyes glowing a bright inhuman red. It growls in a voice like gravel, meaning clear despite the words being barely understandable: “ _Leave. This. Place.”_

And then, as quick as it appeared, it’s gone too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re playing it a little fast and loose here so bear with me—if you have questions hopefully there will eventually be answers ✨


	3. Hierophant [Rank 2]

They leave.

They leave so fast.

They sprint out of the Haunt as quick as their feet can carry them, they _fly_ , half-expecting another incomprehensibly powerful enemy to be at their heels. A Reaper, a berserk Shadow, something else, something worse. _There’s always a bigger fish_ —that’s what Yu says. That, and _good things come to those who bait._

_Nanako—what’s the difference between a fish, a piano, and glue? You can tune a piano but you can’t tuna fish!_

Nanako thinks she’s going to hurl.

They tumble out of the alternate world in a haphazard pile, a mess, a fitting end to the their disastrous mission. They’d been in there for barely an hour, fought two real battles, hadn’t found a thing—but Shinya was still brand new to the team, what were they thinking? Nanako is supposed to be their leader, what was _she_ thinking?

 _There’s good fishing in troubled waters_ , Yu would say, as if he ever had to deal with anything like this.

“That… bastard…” Shinya heaves out, hands on his knees, bent in two. Shinya, Mio, and little Ernest on the pavement, all outside the arcade now, all out of the Haunt, all safe and accounted for. She did that right, at least. Nanako teeters down to sit on the pebbly asphalt and holds a hand out for Ernest to slither up. And then she stays there because she doesn’t think her legs exist anymore.

“What. Was that,” Mio says, then far too loud for the real world: “ _what the hell was that!?_ ”

“Reaper.” Nanako’s entire body is jelly and her stomach is turning and her mouth is dry and her eyes are burning and she let everyone down and “I’m sorry. It w-was my fault,” she sniffs. But she won’t cry, not in front of Mio. She _won’t_. “We shouldn’t have stayed in that section for so long, I’m sorry, Ernest warned me, he told me about it…”

“I don’t care about the big thing, what about that _guy?_ ” Shinya asks, falling against the side of the building with a tired huff and hiding his plastic guns in his backpack. Now that they’re out of the Haunt it’s easier to tell the guns well and truly fake—judging by the cord coming out the bottom of one they might even be some sort of video game controller.

“Guy?”

“The guy! The crazy powerful dude with the lightsabers!”

Mio scoffs, repeats even more incredulously: “guy!? That was some weird-ass bird-demon, not a guy. Dunno how a bird gets a Persona but—“

“ _A Persona?_ ” Ernest hisses from the top of Nanako’s head. Nanako hurriedly wipes her eyes now that their attention has moved in her direction. Some leader she is.

Mio blinks. Frowns. “Well, I thought… didn’t it have one? Did you guys see it?”

“No. But apparently I’m stupid for thinking it was a guy, so what do I know,” Shinya grumps back at her.

“Did you see its eyes? Bright red! Demon!”

“It _talked!_ ”

“Demons can talk, _noob!_ ”

Shinya’s jaw drops and he lets out a squawk that sounds more like it should have come out the bird-entity they’re arguing about than a teenage boy and Nanako watches, miserable, as another fight breaks out between her two teammates.

Maybe they should have gotten to know each other a little better before shoving Shinya onto the team and into the Haunt. Maybe they should have explained more to him from the start. Maybe this is what team bonding activities are for? Another of Nanako’s failings.

“It looked more like a Shadow to me,” she finally says, once it sounds like their argument has fizzled out, still feeling awful but at least a little more composed. And honestly she’s doubting herself now too—she didn’t see anything like a Persona or _lightsabers_ , but everything happened so fast… “Ernest, do you know what it was?”

“ _I do not_ ,” Ernest says helpfully. “ _But this might be something worth investigating further, Nanako Dojima._ ”

Yeah. Okay. Next time she goes to the Haunt she’ll just purposely seek out the mysterious man-bird-demon-Shadow that wields lightsabers and a Persona and could solo the _Reaper_ and ask it what it’s all about. No big deal. “Maybe later,” she mumbles as she finally stands again, because it’s hard to say no to Ernest.

“So… are we going back in?” Shinya looks a little too excited for someone who almost died five minutes ago.

Nanako sighs, points up at the sky. “No. The sun has set, the Haunt is too far away.”

“But—“

“No,” Mio repeats—she can be scary sometimes, but at least she has Nanako’s back. “Even if it were open, better to make that thing think we left for good. For now at least, right?” She finishes with a smirk.

“Yeah.” Nanako hoists her backpack on her shoulders, eager to leave the site of her failure, pray they all forget this embarrassment of a mission and never mention it again. “So… see you at school?”

A pair of nods: one reluctant, one supportive. Both alive. No thanks to her.

It’s a long, _long_ trip home. Aching legs, aching lungs, quiet Ernest. She’s left alone with her thoughts and her mistakes and her fears and she was given this task, this mission: investigate the Haunt, save the Kosei students who keep falling under its spell, figure out a way to get rid of it for good. It’s important, it really is, and it’s an honor to be entrusted with its success, and she’s glad she’s helping, but.

But.

But the thing is… the thought she can’t help but constantly come back to is… it isn’t even supposed to be her. The weird man from her dreams said so.

 _“…recovering from an attack, the Velvet Room is vulnerable still…_ ”

 _“…not a wildcard, but I fear our options are limited…_ ”

“ _…shall be provided the aid of one of our own in the meantime…_ ”

It was a twist of fate that gave her—and apparently _only_ her, the only one in this entire city—the ability to navigate the constantly shifting maze that is the Haunt. Because apparently she’d been there before, or at least somewhere like it. Because of a time in her life she can barely remember, besides the impact it had on her back home: media attention, stares and whispers, over-protective everyone. The kidnapped girl, the coma girl, back when all those people were getting murdered—the first Detective Prince was on that case, right? Wasn’t that just so _crazy?_

She was supposed to be getting away from all that here. She was supposed to be normal.

“Hey there, Nanako,” Yosuke says as soon as she enters their apartment. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of him like usual. Yu is nowhere to be found, probably still at work. “You’re back early. How was the arcade?”

“Fine,” Nanako drops her bag by the door.

“Did you win anything good? I haven’t been to an arcade in a while but I saw passing by the other day one of them had this cute Phantom Thief mascot figure—”

“No,” she tells Yosuke, and slams the door to her room behind her.

* * *

A week later. A few mercifully uneventful trips to the Haunt and back. And somehow. Somehow. Somehow! Shinya _still_ has questions.

“Okay, but—” he shoves another ripped up piece of bread in his mouth, then continues unabated, “then how come Ernest has a whole bunch of Personas? I thought it was supposed to be your _true self_ or whatever?”

“Ernest is a wildcard,” Nanako explains behind her hand, after chewing and swallowing her food. She’d let Ernest speak for himself but she’s pretty sure he’s asleep. “He’s like a blank slate. He can be anything.”

Shinya considers this. Then looks to Mio, to Nanako, glances around the empty roof, and leans forward to whisper conspiratorially: “so what _is_ he, though? I’ve never seen a person with eyes and hair like that, besides that he turns into a freaking _snake_.”

Nanako shrugs. She doesn’t really know what he is, besides that he came from her dream, he’s friendly, and he’s helpful. And that’s good enough for her.

“You gotta haff an animal maff-cot,” Mio says, her mouth full of food as well. Nanako mourns the collective team’s manners and dignity. “Iff the law.”

“I guess, but isn’t it usually something… I dunno…”

“Something cute?” Mio wrinkles her nose, bares her teeth in a mocking grin. “Like a cute lil kitty cat? You want a kitty cat, Shinya?”

“Shaddup, you’ve got stuff stuck in your teeth.” He huffs with a roll of his eyes, “I just. Don’t like snakes. Okay?”

”Aw, you don’t like Ernest?”

”I didn’t say that!”

Nanako heaves a deep sigh, takes another bite of her lunch.

They’re still at it, but at least the tone feels like an improvement? Could even be called banter, if she’s feeling generous. Mostly-friendly _banter_ now rather than arguments, after a week of constant texts and lunches and hangouts and safe, cautious, short trips to the Haunt. And this tentative detante comes just in time too. Nanako wipes her mouth with a napkin like an adult, then pipes up: “have you noticed there’s a new obsession going around?”

Mio nods, curls bouncing along with the movement. “You’re right, it’s just like last month with the video games. Shinya part two.”

“Or Mio part three,” Nanako teases, cutting off whatever retort Shinya had planned when he opened his mouth. “So what have you been hearing?”

“Hm. VHS tapes,” Mio lists. “DVDs, CRT TVs, all the acronyms. And I have this crazy craving for popcorn because people won’t shut up about it.”

“Oh yeah, I had some last night! Rewatched The Cake Knight Rises cause some kids in class were talking about it. Still holds up too, I wish they’d hurry up and make another one.” Shinya balls up the loose paper from his lunch, tosses it at a garbage can across the roof. Misses. He stands awkwardly and shuffles away to retrieve it.

“Hmm. Sounds like old movies then,” Nanako taps a finger to her chin. “So now we have to find the conduit—a student at Kosei who has a really personal connection to old movies and can’t stop talking about them.”

Shinya grimaces as he returns, probably remembering his own (albeit brief) time as a conduit. And he has more questions in him too, of course. “How can you be sure they’re here? Is it always Kosei?”

Nanako nods. She can’t really explain her sources, but “Kosei is the cultural center of the city… we’re kind of sitting ducks for this kind of thing.”

“Awesome,” he says a little too sincerely. Then Shinya straightens his arm flat out in front of him, palm facing the ground. Looks to Mio and Nanako and shakes his hand a little. “Come on! We’re a team, aren’t we? We have to start our mission the right…” He blinks, still holding his hand out. “Wait. Do we not have a team name?”

Nanako puts her hand in. “Nope.”

“What? How do we not have a name!”

“Go team on three,” Mio says, adding hers as well.

“One!”

“But we—”

“Two!”

“Need to have a—“

“Three!”

“ _Go team!!_ ”

* * *

Go team, right? And the they look and listen around Kosei, find their target within a day or two, figure out what their object of obsession is, find that object in the Haunt, and fight the Shadow that clings to it, freeing the conduit and the whole city too. Easy.

Except, of course it’s not that easy. Of _course_. Just in time for Nanako to get used to the routine, it seems the game has been changed. They’re stuck on step two—they can’t find the conduit. None of the Kosei students are obvious matches. And she’s trying to stay calm about it, to stay the course, but…

“A green tea, please,” Nanako says quietly, seat creaking beneath her as she settles behind the bar counter at Café Kingsley. She was in Kichijoji already, stocking up on some imported goods, so she figured she might as well check in on her newest bond too. What else can she do?

“Dojima, right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she says, feeling a bit more comfortable. He nods, ambles down the bar and starts looking through the various boxes of tea along the back wall.

Nanako suppresses a shiver as Ernest slithers from her ponytail and hovers near her ear. “ _Be aware, Nanako Dojima—the Hierophant is wise, a guide of sorts on your journey. This arcana values tradition and morality._ ”

Nanako does a subtle thumbs-up to signal to Ernest that she got it. Like a spy in a movie with an earpiece, but way cooler. And weirder.

“You have a lovely café, Amamiya-san,” she prompts, because she hasn’t been doing this very long but still knows that in order to become closer to someone you have to… well, talk to them.

 _Speak, but not too much or too often_ , Ernest had said back when all this first started. _Do not impose yourself upon your arcana, or else their traits cannot be reflected back upon you._

Something a real wildcard would just know and do naturally, she supposes. Whatever.

“It’s not mine, I just work here,” Amamiya responds as he steeps her tea with practiced motions. “The owner is usually around to help but she’s visiting her family in Europe for a few months.”

Oh. Okay, he does look a little young to own a café outright in this part of the city. Even if the café in question is pretty small and run-down. “Are you in school?”

“I am.”

“What are you studying?”

Amamiya considers this for a moment, then answers simply: “law.”

And Nanako is trying to be a blank slate, a mirror, a reflection, a _whatever_ , but this guy is making it really difficult. She shifts awkwardly in her chair, asks “what classes are you taking right now?”

“This is starting to sound like an interrogation, Dojima-chan,” Amamiya says with a chuckle, placing her finished tea down in front of her.

“And you dodged my question,” she responds automatically. Amamiya blinks, furrows his brow. Shoot, definitely the wrong response. “Sorry, um,” Nanako says quickly, tries to recover. “My dad is a detective. It’s kind of a habit,” she adds, banking on the usual curious follow-ups that people ask.

_Any interesting cases?_

_Solved any murders?_

_Do you want to be a detective too?_

“Ah,” Amamiya says.

And… that’s it.

Awkwardness settles down on the café, oppressive like a heavy fog. She can practically feel it weighing her down in her seat. She takes a sip of her tea, even though it’s still far too hot, because at least the performative gesture gives her something to do. Amamiya goes back to his crossword puzzle and Nanako wants to die or disappear. Whichever would be quicker.

If the Hierophant values traditions, morals… where did she go wrong? Isn’t school kind of a tradition? Aren’t detectives innately… moral…

Ah. Okay. So maybe she of all people should have known better than that.

Besides, coming into someone’s place of work and “interrogating” them isn’t a great way to make a new friend… oh, she really isn’t cut out for this.

Nanako taps her foot against her chair, takes another too-hot sip of her tea, tries not to focus the burning tightness in her throat and behind her eyes. But it’s just too much sometimes, all of it. Her team is falling behind on their mission, they keep fighting amongst themselves, they don’t even have a _team name,_ and in the meantime Nanako remains too much of a coward to confront that powerful Shadow-thing in the Haunt even though she knows it’s still in there, can always sense exactly where it lurks.

 _Nanako Dojima, are you not going to search for the being that saved us from the Reaper?_ Ernest asks her every single time they go to the Haunt to train.

And every single time Nanako has to respond with a cold sweat and a racing heart: _maybe next time, Ernest._

A snake and a chicken. What a pair they make.

And here this chicken is now, failing to hold up a simple conversation with a barista.

_Don’t. Cry._

Nanako digs her fingernails into her palms, takes a deep breath. This guy is supposed to be wise, right? A guide? And they had a deal of sorts, that Amamiya would help Nanako acclimate to the city. She thought she was doing alright, thought it was just a good excuse to make conversation, but maybe… maybe she really does need help.

“Um. Amamiya?” She asks carefully, since it seems like he’s stuck on his puzzle anyway. Intense grey eyes fixate on her, remind her why she’d felt so nervous last time. “This might seem like a weird question but. Um… I have this thing I need to do at… school. But I don’t feel brave enough to do it.” She twists her fingers in her ponytail, absently brushes against Ernest for comfort. “I was wondering… is there any place in the city that could help with that? Like… I dunno, axe-throwing or something?”

Amamiya puts his pen down, grins the widest and brightest Nanako has seen yet. “Have you ever been to a Big Bang Burger?”


	4. Hierophant [Rank 3]

**———  
** **team squad**

 **Nanako** : find anything today?

 **Shinya** : no

 **Mio** : nothing and no one  
 **Mio** : we’re screwed

 **Nanako** : don’t panic, it’s only been a week

 **Shinya** : how long do we have to figure it out??  
 **Shinya** : what happens if we don’t find this kid in time???  
 **Shinya** : exams are coming up!!

 **Mio** : ¯\ _(ツ)_ /¯  
 **Mio** : you turned out fine

 **Nanako** : it’ll be okay  
 **Nanako** : have we checked all the first years?

**———**

**_Boom!!_ **

“ _Eep!_ ”

Nanako shoves her phone back in her pocket, scrabbles blindly at the (wooden? Wooden, wooden, not metal) _wooden_ door handle and scurries inside, trying her best to be faster than the thunder at her heels. The door closes behind her with a jingle and everything turns soft and quiet and safe until she remembers—oh no—

“Sorry!” Nanako says, opens the door again to lightning, wind, deafening torrential rains outside. She shakes out her umbrella quick as she can, then closes the café door once more. Warm, dry, “sorry,” Nanako repeats, placing the slightly-less soaking wet umbrella in an empty stand by the door… right next to the puddle her dripping clothes and boots created. “Sorry!”

“Dojima-chan…” Amamiya chuckles from the bar, watching her with the tiniest little smirk. “What are you doing here?”

He looks the same as always: frizzy black hair pushed away from his face, black shirt underneath a red apron—with the exception of a pair of earbuds, white cord dangling down to connect to a phone resting on the counter.

Earbuds…oh no. Empty umbrella stand. Nanako looks around and finds empty chairs, empty tables, an empty counter… Café Kingsley is completely empty. Oh no. She panics. “Oh, I’m so sorry, are you not—“ she turns back to the door, finds bold letters on a black background spelling out _CLOSED_ staring back at her through the glass of the door. “You’re closed! I’m sorry!”

She hurries to reclaim her umbrella, face burning up from the exertion of running through the rain and the unbearable embarrassment of disturbing her still-new social link. She’d worked so hard to get him talking last time she was here too, she thought they’d finally found a good rapport—

“Dojima-chan!”

Nanako freezes in place.

“We’re not closed.”

But she’s staring at the word, _CLOSED…_ oh. Through the glass. The sign is backward when seen from inside the café. Right.

Her face burns brighter. “…Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for business being bad. Come over here so I can make you some tea,” Amamiya says. He takes out his earbuds and gestures to the dark, pouring, thundering outdoors. “You’ll get sick out in weather like that.”

“I won’t, I’m fine,” Nanako mumbles half-heartedly, slouching her way to sit at the bar counter.

This kind of over-protective _concern_ is exactly what she was trying to avoid by coming here. Why is it that all the men in her life feel the need to relentlessly parent her? Is it Nanako that’s the problem? She always thought she was mature for her age, too. More mature than Mio and Shinya, for sure…

“Green tea, isn’t it?”

“Actually,” she rubs at her forehead, “do you have anything without caffeine? I’ve got a little bit of a headache.”

“Headache special, coming up.” He gives her a little thumbs-up and disappears around the back, leaving Nanako alone with her thoughts. And the muffled sounds of the storm still raging outside. And Ernest, of course. Not so alone, then.

Thunder rumbles.

Not so alone, but… she turns in her seat, glances around the little café. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come to this dingy old place in the back alley of the city in the middle of a storm. She hardly knows Ren Amamiya, after all. _Rank two_ , Ernest would tell her, _out of ten_. That’s like… knowing a name, saying hello. Acquaintances. Barely anything at all.

But Shinya vouched for him. And something about him seems… not trustworthy, exactly. Familiar? Maybe. She can’t quite pinpoint it yet.

Maybe she’s just naive.

Amamiya returns, sets a large glass of water in front of her, then silently gets to work on her tea.

“Thank you very much,” Nanako says, feeling a little guilty for being short with him. And embarrassing before that. Her eyes catch on his phone and earbuds, still sprawled out on the counter where he left them. “I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

“No interruption,” he says simply, collecting his things, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I’m happy to have the company.”

Ah. That’s nice of him to say.

A flash of light.

Another rumble of thunder.

Crickets would not be entirely out of place.

Nanako fiddles with her water glass—rolls it in circles against the lacquered wood countertop, presses her fingers against the accumulating condensation. She tries not to be obvious about watching Amamiya swing his earbuds around by their cord as he steeps her tea.

He seems weirdly content with the silence.

Nanako is not.

“What kind of music were you listening to?”

“Thrash metal,” Amamiya says nonchalantly, and for all her practice with Yu she honestly can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. The swinging stops, earbuds shoved in his apron pocket to join his phone now. “What were you doing out in that storm?”

Nanako bites the inside of her cheek, forces back an exasperated grumble. Three conversations in and she’s already acclimated to failure when it comes to learning more about this guy. Anyway, they have this in common—she’s here doing to her family exactly what Amamiya is doing to her: deflecting, “stalling. My dad is visiting for the weekend, this is the first time I managed to escape.”

“The detective?”

He remembered. “Yeah.” She catches his eyes, intense and attentive—interested, or pretending very expertly. A captive audience with no connection to her family. No connection at all. “He’s great and I’m happy to see him but the three of them are a lot,” Nanako blurts out after too-little deliberation.

“Three?”

She counts off on her fingers: “my dad, my cousin, and my cousin’s fiancé. Those two are who I’m living with for the year. And they all act like still I’m a little kid—always asking if I finished my homework or what I’m doing after school, even though I basically took care of myself _and_ my dad _and_ the house all on my own back in Inaba.”

“It’s not a bad thing to have people who care about you.”

“I know… it just gets…” she lets herself trail off with a sigh before she says something mean. The smiley face she drew on the side of the glass has re-condensated, so she lazily traces her finger around to fix it. Amamiya steps away to add honey to her tea and Ernest takes the opportunity to slither out of her hair and hover next to her ear—the side Amamiya can’t see.

“ _If you want to strengthen your bond, recall that you must allow yourself to become a reflection. Opportunity is a well-made question. Silence reveals._ ”

Aka, Ernest-speak for _shut up, Nanako._

Well, sorry to Ernest, but she’s finding it hard to care about ranks or mirrors or bonds or anything like that right now. Every time she tries to “reflect” Amamiya either shuts down and bounces her questions right back anyway. She waves Ernest back into her hair.

“It’s not just that. Whenever the three of them are together all they talk about are old cases, the good old days, the glory days. Do you know how boring it is hearing the same stories over and over?”

“I can imagine,” Amamiya says, seeming amused by her at least. She’ll take it.

“And they’re not even that old! Well… my dad is old, but Yu and Yosuke aren’t even 30 and all they talk about is Inaba. There’s not even anything there!”

“I hear the fishing is good.”

Nooo. “Nooo,” Nanako collapses dramatically onto the counter. “Not you too…”

“Glory days involve fish, huh?”

“If you want to hear about the time Yu caught _The Sea Guardian_ I can repeat the story word for word.”

“I’ll admit, I am curious,” Amamiya says. “But I can spare you the trouble this time.”

“Thank you.” She takes a hearty sip of her tea. Ginger and honey. It’s delicious. And despite her attitude—or maybe even because of it, having a third-party outlet for all this is kind of nice—her head is already feeling much better.

“ _Would it not be prudent to ask—_ ”

Nanako sits up straight, coughs into her fist and frantically waves Ernest back away again, pretending to tuck some hair behind her ear.

Too much, too late. Amamiya blinks at her, tilts his head. “Tea too hot?” He asks, because he probably just heard _hissing_ coming from her general direction. Nanako is going to have some words with her companion about exactly who should be shutting up and when if they manage get out of this—

“Um, no! It’s perfect,” she stumbles, takes another drink as if to demonstrate that she can in fact drink liquid without sounding like a nosy, chatty snake, “I w-was…” _oh!_ “just remembering! You gave me that recommendation last time I was here.”

Another blink. And then a smirk. Distraction successful. Nanako’s heart settles, just a little. “Do tell, Dojima-chan.”

“Well, I tried my best… and…” she turns to the chair beside her, digs into her backpack until she finds her prize— “tada!”

The look of genuine shock on Amamiya’s face when Nanako shows off her shiny (cheap, plastic) Captain’s Badge is… it’s very good. She’s finally managed to catch him off guard, to get the upper hand. Ha!

“You—!?”

“Ahaha—” she swings it around a bit, then decides to let him off the hook. “I didn’t really earn it, sorry! The look on your face was worth it. They were kind of giving them away.”

“What?”

She stuffs the trinket back in her bag, repeating back what the tired-looking employee told her: “all the Big Bang Burgers are going through this huge remodel, so they’re not doing the challenge anymore. They did give me an extra large burger for fun though, that was nice of them.”

“A remodel,” is what Amamiya parrots back at her this time, expression inscrutable. Ernest probably wishes he were with him instead.

“Yup,” she answers, popping the _p_. “Trying to be more trendy and eco-friendly or something. I think they’re even changing the name.”

And she feels almost a little bad now, because Amamiya’s gaze is still fixed on her backpack where she’d stowed away the Captain’s Badge. “I had no idea,” he says.

“Oh. Sorry,” Nanako grimaces. “I’m sure the food will be just as good?” As if the food was all that good in the first place.

And then it’s as like switch was flipped: Amamiya takes his hands out of his pockets, stands up straighter, offers her that strange smile—cheap and plastic, just like the fake prize she was given. “Yes, you’re right,” he says pleasantly, and Nanako would ask, would push, would pry, but… but she’s just gotten rid of her headache. And this guy—she’s still new at this, still learning, ( _not supposed to be doing this in the first place_ ), and Ren Amamiya is like playing hard mode compared to every other bond she’s made so far. She wasn’t exactly prepared for chess with a Grandmaster today, not when she’s still trying to figure out what the pieces do.

Plus, she realizes as quiet settles between them once again, all the quieter for the stillness outside—it looks like the storm has cleared up.

Amamiya follows her gaze toward the front of the shop. “Now might be your chance, if you want to get home to your three troublemakers. Not that I’m kicking you out.”

No, but the time is… Nanako puts her phone away, downs the rest of her tea in one go. “No, you’re right, they’ll worry if I’m out much later. More worry than usual, at least… um, Amamiya-san,” she makes a split-second decision, then pulls out the Captain’s Badge again and tosses it his way. He catches it easily, question plain in the tilt of his head. “You can keep it. As thanks for the shelter, and for the recommendation.”

“No need to thank me, we made a deal,” he says. “I help you, you keep me employed.”

“You live off 350 yen?”

“Plus this, thanks.” He smiles back at her, shaking Nanako’s prize. He might even look really, genuinely pleased this time, which is good enough for her. “And Dojima-chan—you’ve got a lot of guts to be out and about in a storm like that.”

Oh. Huh. Maybe she does.

* * *

“How’s the Hierophant rank, Ernest?” Nanako can’t help but ask as she finally leaves Café Kingsley, pulling out her phone to check back in on Mio and Shinya. She knows she was kind of ignoring Ernest’s advice the whole time, but maybe…?

“ _Your bond with Ren Amamiya has not increased, but may deepen soon,_ ” Ernest hisses back. “ _You must be a mirror, Nanako Dojima._ ”

* * *

“I’m back,” Nanako calls out. She slips off her shoes and places her backpack by the door, takes a look around. Yosuke is at the kitchen table as usual, Yu sitting beside him, and…

She was worried that when her dad announced he’d be visiting, spending a weekend in the city—next weekend, this weekend coming up, just a few more days, that he was on his way, his train was almost here, that _that one must be his, Nanako_ —she was worried that their time apart would have changed her, or him, that during her time away _something_ would happen, or that he would walk into this apartment, a place he’d never existed before and she’d existed apart from him for so long, and _something_ would happen.

She wasn’t sure what _something_ was.

But of course nothing happened. Everything was fine, is fine. The apartment made room, Ryotaro Dojima found the television, the remote, the sofa. He’s even fast asleep in the same exact position as always. She’s amazed his neck still functions.

“Ah,” Nanako sighs.

“He’s made himself right at home, eh Nanako?” Yosuke tips his chair back, balancing precariously on two creaking legs, maybe just a little too far.

“Sure has,” she grumbles, sliding her way into the closest empty chair.

“Yu took care of the rest of his laundry—your dad actually helped too, believe it or not.”

Yu nods a confirmation but says nothing more on the matter. He’s too busy watching Yosuke attentively to make sure he doesn’t fall and hurt himself. Nanako is almost completely certain, after living with them for almost three months, that Yosuke does this on purpose.

“Thank you for the help,” Nanako says quietly. “I’m sorry he’s… you know. Same as always,” she gestures vaguely behind her. Her dad snores.

Yosuke takes his headphones off from around his neck, places them carefully on the table beside his laptop, and leans forward towards Nanako, chair planting itself firmly on the ground once more. He glances toward the sofa, then murmurs conspiratorially: “actually, Nanako… we were chatting earlier and. Your dad confessed. That he makes. _Stir fry_.”

…What? “Makes it?”

“He said he couldn’t stand takeout anymore so he looked up a recipe online,” Yosuke confirms. “But he still seemed a little shaky on it, so I gave him a few pointers.”

“I did,” Yu corrects.

“I helped!”

Stir fry?

Her dad is… cooking? In the kitchen? Their kitchen, in their house? Cooking? Nanako twists in her chair and, yeah, that’s still him. Not a doppelgänger.

So _something_ did happen, then.

Her dad is cooking. Without her.

What does it matter? Yu and Yosuke—they seem fine… they seem happy about it ( _she should be happy too_ ) and they’re the ones always going on and on about how things used to be so why… why does she feel…? She was so annoyed earlier, she ranted to a poor innocent barista about how nothing ever changed with them all afternoon, and now here she is upset because one tiny little thing did change while she was away… it doesn’t… it just doesn’t make any sense.

What else is her dad doing without her?

Strength—what did Ernest say the Strength arcana was again? Balance, power, inner understanding… that sounds good, Nanako could use one of any of those right now.

“Do you think he’s okay? Without me?”

She notices Yu and Yosuke share a quick look. “O-oh. I—uh,” Yosuke stutters.

“Do you think he misses me?”

“W-well, of course—!?”

“I think he misses you a lot, Nanako,” Yu interrupts with his serious-Yu voice. “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t okay on his own, too.”

“But… all he could talk about before was Inaba, and home, and… I don’t know. I thought… I thought maybe he wanted me to go back.”

Yosuke jumps in his seat, mouth open wide to shout before he remembers their present company. “No!” He hisses instead, “no way, Nanako. He’s so proud of you for doing this on your own. Really, he is.”

“But he’s all by himself—”

“He’s not alone,” Yu interrupts. “He still has you. Even if you’re far apart, you’re with him. He knows that.”

Nanako swallows past the lump in her throat, digs her fingers a little harder into her bouncing knee. Yu is so calm and certain, Yosuke so adamant… she can trust them. She knows that.

“I guess. He _is_ making stir fry. I used to make that for us sometimes.”

Which is a good thing. It’s a good thing. It’s a _good_ thing, it _is_.

She kind of wants to see him make it.

She wants to see him in that kitchen, their kitchen, fumbling with ingredients, looking for spices. She wants to help him when he gets lost and praise him on his progress and tell him how delicious it is no matter what. She wants to demand he make it for her here before he leaves, for all of them—he would if she asked, she knows he would. It is a good thing. _Something_ happened, but it was good.

“See!” Yosuke gestures wildly, nearly knocking over a glass sitting on the table, as if that could help him make his point. “And he never would have done that if you hadn’t come out here, probably. Think about all the things you’re learning at your new school, all the new friends you’re making—none of that would have happened if you’d stayed back in Inaba.”

Nanako nods. “Just like Yu wouldn’t have met all of us if he’d stayed in the city.”

“Maybe you’ve already met your Yosuke, Nanako,” Yu teases along with a deadly serious eyebrow waggle.

“Ah! Hey!” She shoots out of her chair to stands, nearly knocking it over behind her in her haste to escape, because she is—just—how could they— “no! No way!”

She just barely hears Yosuke whine some nonsense about _ten whole years ago_ and _feel so old_ before she shuts her bedroom door behind her, mentally taking stock of everyone she’s met this year and confirming that no, _NO_. Absolutely not.

But what if…?

_No!!_

Ernest slithers his way out of her hair and onto her vanity in the meantime—well-mannered in the way that he always is, allowing Nanako the freedom to finally let her hair out of her ever-present ponytail. Which she might as well do because she made a smart, tactical retreat to her bedroom and now she has to stay here or else endure further teasing.

It’s late enough for bed, anyway. Kind of.

“ _Your companions… the Strength arcana… they interest me,”_ Ernest hisses, swaying to and fro.

“Really?” Nanako grouches, “why?”

_“They speak of the past, yet they do not seem to trapped within it.”_

“Trapped like—”

Like Shinya, screaming for them to recognize him as the star he used to be. Like Mio, crying over the friends she’d lost when she moved, how lonely she felt now. Like Nanako…

“ _Indeed. Could they be immune to the encroaching nostalgia of the Haunt?_ ”

“Immune? Like I am, and the rest of the team?”

“ _I cannot be certain,_ ” Ernest says. “ _Out of the bonds you have made thus far, they feel unique._ ”

Yu and Yosuke, two of them, unique together. Feels kind of like an oxymoron. Or maybe… “the Strength arcana is both of them, right? None of the other ones have been like that. Maybe… it’s because they have each other,” Nanako says, tumbling backward onto her bed. Ernest follows after her, curling up under the light on her bedside table.

“ _We will see in time. For now you should celebrate, Nanako Dojima—your bond with the Strength arcana has increased. Rank five of ten.”_

* * *

**———  
** **squad squad squad**

 **Mio** : so you’ve found them by now right shinya

 **Shinya** : what  
 **Shinya** : no?

 **Mio** : sad

 **Shinya** : why is it on me???  
 **Shinya** : didn’t you both do this before? how come you haven’t found them yet??

**———**

“ _Mio_ ,” Nanako whispers, leaning forward and pulling one of the curls dangling over the seat in front of her. “ _Be nice._ ”

“ _Sorry,_ ” Mio whispers back, not sounding sorry at all. “ _He just makes it so easy._ ”

Nanako only answers with a sigh, because their teacher might be looking in their direction. She chances another glance at her phone, watches as increasingly worried messages from Shinya roll in.

And honestly… Nanako is worried too. She started off panicking that they couldn’t find the conduit immediately, that it wasn’t as easy as when the Haunt had Mio and Shinya… but she forced herself to settle down. Because they couldn’t get so lucky every time, right?

But now it’s starting to take _too_ long, and she’s right back to panicking.

———  
 **squad squad squad**

 **Shinya** : i’m so sick of people talking about movies tho for real!!  
 **Shinya** : everyone wants a sequel to everything

 **Mio** : yeah it gets old super fast

 **Shinya** : are you SURE they’re here?? really sure???

 **Nanako** : they’re definitely here  
 **Nanako** : we’ll just have to check everyone again

 **Shinya** : ughhh

 **Mio** : trust us noob

 **Shinya** : >:(

 **Mio** : >:)

**———**

“ _Wait_ ,” Mio reaches back, taps on Nanako’s desk. “ _They're at Kosei… do they have to be a student?_ ”

“ _Huh?_ ”

Mio almost fully turns around in her seat now, unbothered by the possible consequences of so blatantly not paying attention to a lecture. “There's a ton of people at this school who're always here but aren’t students. What if the conduit is one of them instead?”

Nanako’s eyes widen and she says, “Mio, you’re a _genius,_ ” just in time for a piece of chalk to smack Mio directly on the back of her head.

* * *

They’ve made a breakthrough in the case, but that still doesn’t mean the searching is easy. Of course not.

Nanako, Mio, and Shinya all waste a few precious afternoons lurking around the school campus—listening in on conversations, asking about strange behavior from groundskeepers, teachers, janitors, office staff, looking for any trace of a lead. It’s exhausting, _exhausting,_ and that’s how she finds herself back at Café Kingsley, seeking out caffeine and an atmosphere devoid of school uniforms. Her frustration with the mysterious and elusive conduit only makes her more determined to learn about Ren Amamiya and why she’s been connected to him—he’s in front of her, after all, she knows exactly who he is and can see him. She can do this.

“ _Questions and silence, Nanako Dojima,_ ” Ernest reminds her. “ _Seek tradition and guidance from the Hierophant._ ”

Questions. Silence. Well, they’ve got the silence down pat. What sort of questions should she ask him? Tradition… guidance… she barely knows where to start.

Well, there is one thing she’s been wondering about.

“Amamiya-san?” She asks, careful to catch him at a time the when only other customer in the place seems occupied enough to leave them be. “You’re always here. Even when it’s storming.”

“Mm,” he hums in affirmation, tapping his pen against his crossword puzzle.

“How come?”

“Keeps me occupied. And food on the table, I suppose. Got any ideas for ‘great days guaranteed?’ It’s only five letters…” he mumbles, still staring pointedly at the crossword.

“Don’t you have school to attend?”

“It’s the modern age, Dojima-chan. I can look up the class material online,” Amamiya says with an unconvincing smile.

Is she annoying him? She’s probably annoying him.

Well, too bad. She is Nanako Dojima, leader of a team with no name, and she is doing this.

“I wish I could do that, sitting in class seems so pointless sometimes. Do you do anything for fun?”

“I hustle pool,” he answers, completely deadpan.

 _Don’t give up._ “No really,” she leans forward. Looks extremely interested, extremely attentive—using Amamiya’s own tactics against him. “There’s so much to do in this city that I kind of don’t know where to go. Besides here, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Amamiya repeats with a smile.

“So… what do you think?”

He sighs, smile sliding off his face. The pen-tapping resumes. “I think… I’m more out of the loop than I realized. Got settled into a routine… just work and sleep. Nothing exciting, certainly nothing a kid your age would be interested in.”

Oh. Work and sleep. O _h_.

Nanako realizes she’s heard that line before, seen this face before. She’s seen it for years, just heard the same words out of her dad’s mouth last weekend. That’s why he feels familiar, that’s why she trusted him—and if her dad can learn to make stir fry, then she can help Ren Amamiya too.

Nanako leaves Café Kingsley that day with a solid rank three finally achieved, well-earned triumph coursing through her veins. She can do this, _she can do this_ , and now she’s going to lead her team to victory.

———  
 **squid squid squid**

 **Nanako** : tomorrow is it  
 **Nanako** : we're not leaving the school until we find this person  
 **Nanako** : we’re going to find them  
 **Nanako** : and then we're going to the haunt  
 **Nanako** : everyone in?

 **Shinya** : hell yea!!!

_**Shinya** changed the group chat name from ' **squid squid squid** ' to ' **ghostbusters** '_

**Mio** : i’m in  
 **Mio** : wait

_**Mio** changed the group chat name from ' **ghostbusters** ' to ' **shinya no** '_

**Mio** : okay  
 **Mio** : now let's do it

**———**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: what's up with that bird shadow?

**Author's Note:**

> catch me [@shouldbewerking](https://twitter.com/shouldbewerking)


End file.
